The flowers
by SanjiRoronoa
Summary: The flowers in his beer mug were rotting but still he refused to throw them away. He didn't know why he was so attatched. It definatly not like Zoro to get attatched like this either. AU


o^o^o

The snow swirled outside in the wind like dandelion fuzz. They danced and soared through the frosty air. None seemed to touch the ground. It was as if the earth herself was puffing futilely at the flakes so she wouldn't be covered in a blanket of white. But her efforts were useless, there was an endless supply of them from the sky.

Zoro watched the scenery outdoors around some flowers in a beer mug sitting on his wide kitchen window in his shabby house. He sat in his chair staring blankly at the mysterious phenomenon occurring. All ten of his toes curled on the cold tile of his kitchen floor. He wasn't so much shivering as he was trembling inside. His hands were frozen. His heat was being sucked greedily from the countertop he was leaning on.

He wasn't even fully present. Instead, he was away, in his mind.

o^o^o

The leaves had turned brown, red, and orange. They fell from the trees like little kids that jumped from swings. All of them. At that time, he had been meditating outside trying to enjoy the last moments of when he could stay outside with minimal clothes and not catch hypothermia.

He had sat across the street from the iron monument of a strong girl in the center of town. The girl's nose was beginning to rust from years of rain and snow.

He soon could feel the presence of another. The person had appeared shortly after he had.

At the time he had thought it was quite strange for a person to just spend time in the abandoned town circle for so long. He felt a bit cold meditating and could only imagine how the other felt.

Even though he had not opened his eyes to look at this person, he could tell that they were very thin so they must have felt the cold. But by the way they paced, he could tell that they held themselves with importance and didn't let on their discomfort.

When the other first appeared it was approximately eleven in the morning. But as the time passed the temperature fluctuated. Zoro felt the chill of evening swim through his rattled tee and into his body. From what he could tell, it was about four now. The light of the streetlamp shone bright in contrast of the early night but he continued to meditate on.

A soft thump disturbed his meditation.

Zoro opened his eyes to find himself alone. He slowly got up to see that a bouquet of flowers had fallen from the bench of the iron lady. He didn't know why, but his body glided to the flowers and picked them up.

Examining them, he sat down on the bench to find that there was a small box resting there dejectedly. He plucked it off the bench and headed home. When he reached home, he placed them in a large beer mug filled to the brim with water and placed it on the windowsill along with the box.

After that he went to bed.

o^o^o

When Zoro had returned from his mind and back to the present an alluring feeling appeared. It pulled his hand towards the small box. It had been forbidden in his mind up until this point. It was time to open it.

He tentatively touched it. Zoro couldn't fathom why but it just felt so delicate to him. It was as if, if he'd even look at it to hard that it would shatter into millions of pieces to a point where he could not fix it.

Hesitantly he pulled it close it his face to examine it. It was velvet and soft. It felt really cold too.

With a deep breath he opened it.

A small tune started to play.

It was slow and sweet. Zoro could feel the sweet, honey like emotion seep into the air. It almost was like a lullaby that a mother would hum for her newly born child. Almost. Same type of warmth but not the same emotion. This tune was for a lover, by a lover. He had never heard anything like it.

He felt as though he were laying in a meadow with his love one just passing time, watching the clouds go by and making stories up from their shapes. It was peaceful and happy.

The music slowed to a stop.

Zoro opened his eyes. He hadn't even known that he closed them.

The box rested in his palm, opened.

A piece of paper wrapped something that was fitted snugly into a miniature pillow. Carefully, the man removed the mysterious item, closed the box, and unrolled the object. Something was written on the covering in beautiful cursive handwriting.

_My sweet sweet swan,_

_You start my day more gracefully than dawn._

_During the morning, I long for nothing more than to wake by you._

_By noon, all I can ask for is to share your view._

_Every night I wish to only share your embrace._

_I am more than honored to be able to be apart of your grace,_

_To be seen in your passionate purple eyes._

_Many disapprove of our love,_

_But we are way above,_

_Above them so let them despise._

_Let me cast them aside,_

_So I may take your delicate hand,_

_And,_

_Ask you to be by my side,_

_As my beautiful bride._

What had been wrapped inside was a small ring. Whoever it was meant for must have had tiny and delicate hands. The ring would only be able to fit to the first joint on his little finger.

Putting the paper aside, he examined the ring closely. He found that there was a small carving inside.

_To the most divine lady I have ever laid eyes on -Sanji._

The ring itself was carved from ivory and wood. It was strange because the way that they intertwined seemed impossible. There was a purple diamond on the ivory and a blue one on the wood melded together by a gold piece that hugged the ring.

Zoro carefully wrapped the ring once more in the poem and put it back into the box.

By that time it was dark outside.

He walked to his bedroom with the box. As he sat on his bed he realized a horrible thing, that this Sanji guy... Was stood up or most likely dumped on the day he was going to propose.

Zoro laid down and opened the box again. Soon he began to feel drowsy and eventually fell asleep to the harmonious music that the presentation box played.


End file.
